


21 Guns

by romanticalgirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't what Nate's used to. (aka: Underage!slutty!rent-boy-ish!Nate)</p>
            </blockquote>





	21 Guns

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as comment porn based on a picture of wee!baby!actor! Stark Sands from "Die! Mommy! Die!" and then [](http://hackthis.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hackthis.livejournal.com/)**hackthis** wanted more, and who am I to refuse her? Of course, I made her beta it too. She works hard for her (imaginary porn-based) money.
> 
> Originally posted 9-11-09

It should be harder for Nate to get into clubs given that he looks like he's twelve, but he’s found that certain clubs are more than willing to let him in _because_ of how he looks. So when he wants to go out and have a good time, he dresses younger than he is in thin t-shirts, ratty jeans and hoodies a size too big, and he makes sure to rake his fingers through his hair so that it falls over his face.

He's in DC for one of his classes, sitting in on legislative session, but their free time is their own. He's done the typical sightseeing and gotten hit on at least four times walking the National Mall. He's done his research and it's easy enough to evade the guys he's rooming with. All they’re interested in is hitting the bars where they might meet a senator or two. Nate’s not worried about meeting senators. There’s time for that down the road. For now, he’s more interested in how quick the Metro ride is to Dupont Circle. Once there, he looks around. He's gotten good at noticing things, so he figures out quickly which bar is going to give him the least amount of trouble and heads there, flashing his ID and smiling at the bouncer at the door.

He gets in without any trouble and orders a beer. Sitting at the bar, he can watch all the guys, watch the way they move easily amongst each other, with each other. There isn't the same vibe he’s used to from the college bars. The guys here aren't experimenting or on a bet. They're here for the same reasons Nate's here.

"Fosters." The voice catches Nate's attention and he looks up. And up. The guy is tall and lean and blond. He’s clearly a fucking Viking or Nazi wet dream or something else equally inappropriate to be thinking, but Nate's cock is suddenly the one in charge. Whoever he is, he looks from the bartender to Nate and smirks, the left side of his mouth quirking up. "Problem?"

"No. Not at all." Nate manages a smirk of his own and takes a drink of his beer, licking the rim of the bottle before swallowing some down. The blond giant is still looking at him, blue eyes speculative.

Snagging one of the empty stools, he plops it down next to Nate's, straddling it in ways that make Nate's dick jerk hard and his brain go completely off line. His long fingers wrap around his bottle and he takes a deep swallow. "You must have one awesome fake ID."

"I'm twenty-one."

"Yeah. Right." He leans in close enough for Nate to count his blond eyelashes, close enough to taste the hint of his lager on the air. Nate stops breathing. "What's your name?"

He doesn’t even think enough to lie. "Nate."

"You're not a very good liar, Nate."

" _No_?" Nate manages to get the word out without sounding too much like he's choking on his own want, like all the blood in his body is throbbing in his cock. "Well, maybe I'm very good at other things instead."

"Is that so?"

Nate smiles and licks his lips. “Maybe.” He's heard enough comments and compliments about his mouth that he knows what he's doing, and the blond is no exception.

His gaze follows Nate's tongue before he laughs and takes another pull from his beer. "My name's Brad."

"Why should I care?"

Brad gets up from his stool and leans in, breathing against Nate's ear. "Because I don't fuck strangers." He nuzzles the line of Nate's neck and Nate can feel the beads of sweat begin forming on his skin at the contact. "So we should at least be on a first name basis."

Brad turns abruptly and walks away, making a line to the back of the bar, toward the bathrooms. Nate watches him appreciatively for a moment before following. All the way there it feels like the entire bar is watching, which isn't necessarily wrong, given that Brad and Nate are both over six feet tall, though Brad has a few inches on Nate.

The hallway's dark and smoky, and Nate can taste the sweet layer of pot in the air. He ignores all the glances of the other guys as he moves past tables to follow Brad. Once he's in the hallway, he can see the greasy yellow light and the neon glow of the exit sign, but he can't see Brad until he's nearly to the bathroom doorway. It's open though the bathroom light is off, and Brad's smile gleams like the fucking Cheshire Cat's.

Nate follows him inside, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as Brad closes the door and turns on the light. Nate's had sex in alleys and bathrooms, bedrooms and back rooms, so he knows what to expect, knows to get on his knees and take Brad's cock in his mouth and suck it until he's wet and slick and ready to fuck Nate, hoping Nate's hole is as virgin as he looks. Nate’s never been interested in more than sex, and anonymous hook ups in bars have been enough to give him what he needs.

Either way, he knows the drill, so he starts to sink down until Brad's hand catches at his arm and he shakes his head, giving Nate a ghost of a smile.

"Said I was going to fuck you."

Nate's eyebrows go up and he lets Brad lead him to the sink. He follows Brad’s guiding touches and braces his hands on the porcelain, watching Brad's faint reflection in the mirror. Nate shakes his head, managing to keep his voice steady when he speaks. "I hope you've got something with you."

Brad tugs the neckline of Nate's t-shirt away from his skin and rubs the faint stubble on his chin against Nate's throat. Nate shivers and watches him in the mirror. Brad's watching as well, his eyes sharp as they seem to catalog every tremor that runs through Nate. He scrapes Nate's skin and kisses it, licking and sucking and leaving faint marks Nate can barely see in his reflection.

Nate’s not sure why Brad’s light touches are getting to him. He knows better than to let that happen, knows that’s not what he wants, but he can’t seem to help it. Sex isn’t new to him, but this – maybe this is, since he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this, tried to turn him on instead of making Nate do all the work.

"Look at you," Brad whispers into Nate's ear, his hand sliding up Nate's chest, fingers splayed wide, rucking the fabric upward. "Look so young and innocent, don't you?"

"M-maybe I am." Nate licks his lips, trying to stay on track, but it's hard with Brad not following any of the rules, any of the protocols Nate had to protect himself. Brad's fucking around with foreplay and Nate's already hard enough to hurt. This isn’t the way things are supposed to go, but Brad doesn’t seem to care as his hand slides down and snakes underneath Nate’s shirt. Brad’s palm is like embers dancing on Nate's stomach. "Oh, fuck."

"You're used to that, aren't you?" Brad keeps talking as if they're having a real conversation instead of him taking claim of Nate's body. His fingers find Nate's nipple, teasing it lightly before he catches it and rolls it between two fingers. "Used to just getting fucked for your sweet, angelic face and whore mouth, aren't you?"

"I..." Nate's head falls back against Brad's shoulders. Brad's fingers have moved to the other nipple and his mouth is on Nate's neck in earnest now that Nate's head has fallen to the side, granting him access. “What are you…O-oh.” He arches up against Brad’s touch, pushing into it.

Brad's other hand curves around Nate’s waist, making its way to Nate's fly and unfastening the button and zipper. He pushes Nate's briefs down enough to get a hand in and wraps his fingers around Nate's dick, squeezing it and then beginning to stroke. "Look at you," Brad purrs in Nate's ear, stubble scratching at the hollow beneath it. "So fucking hot. You like my hand on your dick, Nate?"

Nate's cock disappears in the circle of Brad's fingers, only the hot, red tip appearing on the down stroke. Nate's legs are shaking and his grip tightens on the sink as he watches, losing himself in the rough, rapid stroke of Brad's hand. "What...you...you have to..."

"Bet you're gorgeous when you come, aren't you? Bet you look like a fucking debauched angel. Do you let them watch you or do you jerk off when you've got their cocks in your mouth?" Nate whimpers and his hips jerk, fucking into Brad's fist. "I'm going to watch you. Going to watch you come.”

Nate responds to Brad’s voice as though he just gave an order, coming hard enough to physically hurt, shudders running up and down his spine. He feels like all his weight is resting against the tight circle of Brad's hand around his dick.

Brad shifts Nate so that he's leaning against Brad's chest before he eases his hand from Nate's cock. Nate watches, can't look away, as Brad raises his hand up and paints Nate's lips with one finger before bringing the rest to his own mouth, licking them clean.

Nate makes a noise, can't help it, at the sight of those long fingers disappearing into Brad's mouth, the hot sucking sound as he pulls them free. Brad moves away from Nate and adjusts his jeans before reaching out to pat Nate’s ass.

"What...what are you...?” Nate struggles to catch up, to figure things out as Brad heads toward the door. Nate knows Brad’s hard. He could _feel_ it. “You said you were going to fuck me."

"Yeah, I am," Brad agrees. " As soon as you're twenty-one,” he tosses over his shoulder before he disappears.

Nate stands in the bathroom for at least ten minutes before someone else walks in. The guy looks Nate over and smiles an invitation. Nate glares at him, too angry at him for not being Brad to care. He shoves past the guy back into the bar, knowing before he clears the door that Brad’s already gone.

He’s not coming back.

He was _serious_.

**

He stays out of D.C. after that, heading back to New Hampshire and working his ass off to get his degree. He still goes out – he’s human as well as humiliated – and he’s careful to pick his targets with a little more discretion. He can’t find his fake ID, and he can’t find anyone around who can make one even half as good, so he sticks to the college bars where they don’t care or where they already know him.

The problem is that Brad won’t leave him alone. Actually, that’s not true. The real Brad has probably forgotten he exists. The Brad in Nate’s head keeps counting down the days until Nate’s actually twenty-one, his voice promising things that make Nate’s body flush and his dick twitch.

When winter break hits, Nate heads home to Baltimore and holes up in his room to study, blowing off offers to celebrate his birthday from high school friends he barely knows anymore.

Of course, instead of doing any actual studying on his birthday, he sneaks out of his bedroom and gets a taxi to the train station. From there, it’s a short ride to Union Station and then the Metro to Dupont Circle. He knows it’s ridiculous, but he also knows that if he doesn’t do this, he’ll be wondering the rest of his life.

Nate knows he still looks twelve, but he's not playing it up tonight. In fact, he's doing his very best to look nothing like the skinny, smart-assed kid that he pretended to be the last time he was here. Tonight he's wearing khakis and a dark green dress shirt, his coat draped over the his lap, and he looks...he doesn't know how he looks. Older? Adult? More sophisticated? Different?

The bar certainly doesn't look different, and for all he knows the clientele is the same. He doesn't look around, just stays in the same chair at the bar and orders a beer.

He can feel a few admiring looks and sees a few guys eyeing him in the mirror behind the bar. He doesn't smile and he doesn't react. He just keeps drinking slowly from the cold bottle sweating condensation and wonders how he can feel younger now than he did almost a year and a half ago.

He jumps when he feels fingers brush his ass, turning quickly when he realizes his wallet's been lifted. He's about to say something when he looks up and sees Brad opening the leather and pulling his license out of the plastic sleeve.

"Nathaniel Christopher Fick." He lets the silence hang in the air, a too long pause that makes Nate’s skin itch. “And what do you know? Age twenty-one."

"As of twenty-two minutes ago." Nate stands up and swallows hard. "So I think you owe me a present."

"You do, do you?" Brad tucks the ID back in Nate's wallet and hands it to him. "I didn't even know it was your birthday. How would I have known to get you something?"

Nate steps closer. His breath is tight in his chest, almost painful. "You said you'd fuck me."

"Did I?" Brad smiles and looks Nate over. "I remember promising someone that, but I don't remember him looking a thing like you."

Nate grits his teeth, his jaw aching. "Fine. I'll find someone else to fuck then."

"No." Brad grabs Nate's wrist and pulls him closer. His long fingers curve around Nate's forearm and Nate remembers that same hand wrapped around his dick. He's spent too many nights remembering that. Brad's voice lowers, softens. "No."

Nate takes a step away from him, towards the back of the bar, coming up short as Brad’s grip doesn’t loosen and he doesn't move. "What's wrong?"

"We're not going to do it here." Brad pulls Nate close again and turns toward the door. "Unless you're extremely turned on by semi-sanitary conditions."

"I..."

"Which, given that I'm going to have my dick up your ass, I have to hope you're not."

"You...we...we were in there last time." Nate falls in step with him without thinking, even though Brad lets go of his hand as they hit the sidewalk. Nate's always thought DC was laid out by someone on severely high doses of laudanum, so he really has no idea where Brad's leading him.

"I didn't fuck you last time." Brad digs in his pocket and pulls something out, handing it over to Nate. "By the way, you dropped this."

Nate finds himself looking down at his fake ID. The one’s he’s been looking for. The one he even accused his roommate of ripping off. He flushes as he looks at it, at least now knowing how Brad knew to be at the bar tonight. "The date of birth could have been a lie.”

“True,” Brad acknowledges with a wolfish grin. “But it wasn’t.”

Nate frowns at him and keeps walking alongside him. “You're really going to fuck me this time, right? I mean, this isn't another elaborate tease?"

"I didn't tease you. As I recall, you came all over my hand, practically begging me not to stop."

"You have selective memory." Nate flushes. "I wasn't begging."

"If anything,” Brad keeps talking as if Nate hadn’t said a word, “you were the cocktease. Not to mention a vaguely illegal one at that." Brad grins at him, his hand slipping into the small of Nate's back as he guides him up a set of steps to a pale blue row house. He unlocks the door and looks at Nate in the faint glow of the porchlight. "You're not teasing tonight, are you, Nate?"

"No." Nate swallows hard as Brad leans in, his mouth barely brushing Nate's lips. "Please."

Brad laughs throatily and pulls back, waving Nate inside. Nate goes, kicking his shoes off just inside the door before moving out of Brad's way so he can enter. Brad toes off his own shoes and then reaches for Nate. There's no preamble, just the hot press of Brad's mouth on Nate's, the slide of his tongue past Nate's lips. Nate groans and opens to the pressure, arching his body against Brad's as Brad sucks on his tongue, his hands pressed to Nate's back and holding him close.

"Up." Brad growls, walking Nate backward to the stairway. Nate grabs for the railings, trying not to fall over his own feet, trying to keep his head as Brad's mouth does indecent things to his neck. He nearly falls on his ass, though, when Brad ignores the buttons and pushes Nate’s shirt up over his head. He catches Brad's shoulders before he can fall and Brad ducks down to lick Nate's nipple. Nate shudders and his cock jerks hard.

By the time they get to Brad's room, Nate's naked and Brad's kicking his pants off his foot. Nate doesn't have time to look around, doesn't want to look away from Brad's face as he guides Nate to his bed.

Nate sits on the edge and then scoots back, watching with wide eyes as Brad crawls up to him on his hands and knees, braced over Nate's body. "Brad..."

Brad leans down and swipes the tip of his tongue over the head of Nate's cock. "Shut up, Nate." Brad doesn't wait for Nate to respond or to obey, he simply bows his head and takes Nate's cock in his mouth.

Nate hips arch up and his mind short-circuits, caught up in _hot_ and _tight_ and _wet_ and trying not to come too quickly.

Brad sucks him deep, making throaty noises around Nate's cock, vibrating them against his skin. Nate fists his hands in Brad's sheets, rocking up into his mouth, fucking past Brad's lips.

He moans as Brad pulls off, his lips curved under the ridge of Nate's cock, the hint of his teeth just enough added pressure to push Nate over the edge. Nate comes with a final hard jerk of his hips and Brad's mouth tightens again, sucking him down until Nate's quivering and overstimulated, his muscles turned to jelly.

"Now," Brad informs him, grabbing a pillow from just above Nate's head and guiding it beneath his hips, "I'm going to fuck you."

Nate nods, watching Brad's wet, swollen lips. Brad smiles and reaches over onto his nightstand. Nate hears the familiar rip of a condom package, the _snick_ of a bottle of lube. He spreads his legs further in anticipation, the soles of his feet flat on the mattress as he raises himself up.

"I know you're not a virgin," Brad's voice is thick like the room-temperature lube he presses against Nate's ass. "But fuck if you don't look like it. That tight cherry hole. Christ." He leans in and kisses Nate hard, the hint of Nate's come still on his tongue. Nate sucks at it desperately, gasping as Brad works his fingers in, wet and slick and so big inside him.

He sucks harder on Brad's tongue, his hips rolling upwards as he tries to take Brad deeper, not caring about the burn of stretching, just wanting Brad's mouth, his dick. _Him_.

“Fuck," Nate manages to choke out as Brad keeps taking his time, barely pushing two fingers in. " _Fuck me_."

Brad curves his fingers and Nate comes off the bed, his entire body arching sharply as Brad's fingers start moving in earnest. Nate sinks back down for a moment before he repeats it again and again, Brad's fingers triggering his nerve endings until he's all reaction. Willing to do anything Brad wants.

Nate's breathless and sweaty by the time Brad's fingers ease out of him, halfway back to hard. Brad braces himself over Nate, and Nate can feel the insistent push of Brad's dick at his hole.

"A year and a half, Nate," Brad whispers to him, the familiarity of Brad’s stubble against his neck sending ripples of want through Nate, making him shudder as Brad pushes inside him. "You'd better be worth the wait."

Nate doesn’t get a chance to answer, too caught up in the feel of Brad’s cock sliding inside him. He hasn’t been celibate, but he’s been more selective lately. It’s been a while since he’s been fucked, and even longer since he’s watched as it happened.

Right now, though, he has Brad staring at him, blue eyes painfully aware as they study his face. Nate wants to close his eyes, but he can’t - can’t look away.

Nate slides a leg around the back of both of Brad’s calves, arching up into his thrust. Brad’s teeth are sunk into his own lower lip and his breath is loud between them. Nate reaches up, thumb brushing against the skin, freeing it from his teeth. Brad catches Nate’s thumb, sucking it into his mouth. Nate’s entire body jerks in response and he gets his other leg around Brad, using Brad’s weight as leverage against him.

Eventually, Brad releases Nate’s thumb and nudges his hand out of the way, leaning in to capture Nate’s mouth. Nate groans around Brad’s tongue as it thrusts pasts his lips and he sucks hard on it, all the while running his nails up and down Brad’s back hard enough to knows that he’s leaving marks on Brad’s skin.

Breaking the kiss, Brad gasps for breath and then dives in again, his mouth rough and hot on Nate’s. Nate meets him, kiss for kiss, until Brad’s hips lose their rhythm, jerking erratically several times as he comes.

“Fuck,” Nate chokes out, tightening his legs around Brad as his own cock throbs between them. “Fuck, yes.”

Brad buries his head against Nate’s neck, stubble and breath teasing against Nate’s skin. “Shit.”

Nate laughs softly, glancing over Brad’s shoulder and down his body, noting the long red lines that mar his tanned skin, including the colored ink of his tattoo. “Worth the wait?”

Brad pulls back and smiles, easing out of Nate and disposing of the condom. “Who said we were finished?”

“O-oh.” Nate’s cock is already hard, and Brad’s words cause it to jerk roughly. “You had…we…”

“We’re not done.” Brad crawls back up the bed, leaning in to nip at Nate’s inner thigh. “Unless you’re a one-hit wonder?”

“No.” Nate smirks at him as Brad glances at Nate’s dick. “Definitely not that.”

“Good.” Brad’s teeth bite at Nate’s skin again, hard and sharp enough to leave a mark, then he pulls back. “Then turn over.”

Nate sits up, eyes still on Brad’s. There’s a smile Nate doesn’t completely understand on Brad’s lips, something sharper than satisfaction. Nate turns and braces himself on his hands and knees, his eyes catching on the pristine white of Brad’s sheets.

Nate’s ass aches pleasantly, the residual burn from the thrust of Brad’s dick buzzing through his veins. He expects similar – the push and stretch and stroke of Brad’s fingers filling him up, but instead, Brad’s thumbs dig into the muscles of Nate’s ass and part the skin. He doesn’t have time to process any of it before Brad’s tongue slides over Nate’s hole, flicking against the sensitive muscle.

“Oh… _fuck_...” Nate groans. His arms nearly buckle.

Brad tightens his grip, his thumbs keeping Nate’s ass spread, but his fingers curving around Nate’s hips and holding him. Nate’s head bows forward and he can see his cock swaying, leaking as his body thrusts back against Brad’s mouth. He shudders hard, muttering obscenities under his breath as Brad thrusts in deeper, the tip of his tongue hard and direct as it snakes past the muscle.

Nate digs his fingers into the sheets in an effort to stay upright as Brad probes him, tongue sliding inside Nate slick and hot, curving and tracing the sensitive skin until Nate’s whole body is covered with gooseflesh, his dick throbbing with need.

Nate aches to close his eyes, to give into the sensation, but he can’t look away from the sight of Brad’s body through his own parted legs. It’s all hard muscle and tanned skin and Nate can’t stop licking his lips, wanting to taste him, but Brad ignores Nate’s choked off cries and broken words, too busy thrusting his tongue deep inside Nate’s ass.

Nate’s body is completely overloaded, every nerve firing at once until he’s constantly trembling, shaking from the feel of Brad. Precome is staining his abdomen and he has to keep clenching and unclenching his hands to try to stay in control. It’s a losing battle. He can feel it all slipping away as Brad’s nose brushes Nate’s skin, as the faint stubble on his chin scrapes against Nate’s perineum and his tongue curls deep inside.

Nate’s arms _do_ give out and he buries his face in the pillow, his body jerking with his orgasm. It feels like it lasts forever and Brad doesn’t _stop_ , his tongue torturing Nate until Nate manages to turn his head and gasp out a breath, begging weakly for Brad to stop, to have mercy. Brad pulls away slowly and Nate collapses into the cooling wet spot, fucked senseless.

“F-fu…” Nate sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck.”

Brad plants slow, hot kisses along Nate’s spine. “Again? Already?”

Nate laughs weakly and glances back at Brad. He knows he looks younger when he gets fucked, face open and unguarded, mouth swollen and eyes bright. Brad looks cool and calm, though his skin glistens with perspiration and his short hair is damp at the hairline. “I don’t known about you, but that…that was worth the wait for _me_.”

Brad’s laugh shivers down Nate’s back. His cock is pressed hard against the crack of Nate’s ass and his body is warm above him. Brad nuzzles the nape of Nate’s neck and licks the sweat from his skin. “Did you wait for me, Nate?”

Nate makes a noise, unable to stop the reaction to Brad’s low, hot words. Nate shifts and Brad braces himself, holding himself off of Nate with his hands as Nate turns over. The sheets are damp, tacky and uncomfortable against his back and calves, but it’s nothing compared to the promise of Brad’s heat above him. “I thought about you.”

“Mmm.” Brad leans in, nips Nate’s jaw and then pulls back. Brad straddles him, and Nate slides his hands down to stroke Brad’s thighs. “You wanted to suck my cock that night.”

Nate’s mouth feels swollen and used, his own teeth have wreaked havoc on his lips from trying desperately to hold in the sounds Brad wrung from his throat. Brad’s gaze is locked on Nate’s mouth and Nate licks his lips, feeling more than hearing Brad’s rough groan. “I don’t want that anymore.”

“No?” Brad’s voice almost breaks, something nearly vulnerable in it and Nate feels a swell of power that’s overridden by a wave of something he’s not willing to think about, much less name.

“No.” His thumbs slide along the cut of Brad’s abdomen, skimming the taut muscle as he splays his hands along Brad’s sides. Nate licks his lips again and holds Brad’s gaze. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

“You do, do you?” Whatever had been in Brad’s voice, whatever brief moment of weakness, is gone, replaced by a low growl. Nate tightens his grip as Brad leans in and nips hard at Nate’s jaw again. “You want me to fuck that whore mouth of yours?”

“Fuck,” Nate groans. “Yes. Jesus. What do you need? A fucking order?”

Brad pulls back, his laugh low and throaty. Nate’s hands tighten against Brad’s hips, but Brad ignores him, grabbing the headboard behind Nate and pulling himself to his knees so he can shift forward, sinking back down onto his heels, this time straddling Nate’s chest.

Brad’s dick is thick and long, curved slightly, and the slit glistens with precome. Nate licks the head, wrapping his lips around the crown of Brad’s cock and sucking lightly. He can hear the squeak of Brad’s palms against the wood as he tightens his grip and Nate teases the ridge, his teeth behind his lips as he grinds them lightly against Brad’s hard flesh.

“Sh…shit. Fuck.” Brad gasps and thrusts forward, the heavy weight of his dick filling Nate’s mouth, pushing toward Nate’s throat. Nate tries to relax, not wanting to choke or gag as Brad’s cock fills him, as his lips and tongue slide along Brad’s length.

Once Brad’s deep in Nate’s mouth, he starts moving in earnest, gasping about the heat and the wet and Nate’s mouth feels like a pool of spit and precome and Brad’s dick comes out slick and sloppy against Nate’s lips with every stroke.

Brad’s voice rains down on Nate, murmured, cut off words that he can’t quite make out and the sound of his name on Brad’s lips. Nate closes his eyes and listens, submerges himself in the sound and feel of Brad’s voice and Brad’s body. He closes his eyes and lets his hands roam over Brad’s skin, touching whatever he can – thighs, ass, back - learning him by touch. Brad fucks Nate’s mouth, control wavering as his thrusts get deeper, the rhythm changing until it’s hard for Nate to take him, hard to swallow his length at the frantic pace and tense angle.

Nate tightens his mouth around Brad, his tongue pressing Brad’s dick to the roof of his mouth. He increases the pressure slowly, sensing more than seeing the sharpness of Brad’s muscles coming out in his thighs. His whole body shakes above Nate and then Nate’s swallowing, thick and soapy and sharp.

When Nate opens his eyes, Brad’s releasing the headboard. He eases his dick from Nate’s mouth and relaxes back onto his knees, shifting to give Nate some room to breathe. He’s looking at Nate and Nate has to smile, despite the fact that his mouth is numb and his jaw aching. Brad looks debauched - like he’s been fucked and sucked and _sated_. The swell of pride takes Nate by surprise. He’s never really cared before, never in it for enjoyment so much as just _getting off_ , but it matters to him that he’s lived up to what Brad waited for.

Just as much as it matters that Brad was everything Nate spent the last year and a half fantasizing about.

Brad rubs his eyes and then exhales slowly. “You thirsty?”

Nate nods, not trusting his voice or his ability to speak without sounding like he’s slurring his words. Brad eases off the bed and disappears for a few moments, coming back with two glasses of water, cold enough that condensation is already building on them. Nate manages to sit up, his head swimming for a moment. He slumps back against the headboard for support before he takes one of the glasses from Brad’s hand, noting the coolness of his fingers as their hands brush.

Nate empties the glass in four long, deep swallows and Brad watches him, his mouth curved in a smirk. Nate flips him off and sets the glass on the nightstand and burrows down against the pillows, waiting for Brad to finish his water.

Brad shakes his head and drains his glass, then moves back onto the bed, stretching out next to Nate and tugging the covers over them. “So, you’re old enough to stay out all night?”

“I’m old enough for anything you want.” Nate yawns and then laughs. “Hopefully though you don’t want it tonight, because I’m…” He breaks off for another yawn.

Brad’s fingers trace Nate’s mouth before he starts talking again. “Go to sleep, birthday boy.”

Nate nods and closes his eyes. “G’night, Brad.”

**

Brad’s still sleeping when Nate wakes up in the morning. He manages a call to his parents and tells them not to worry, that he’s out with a friend who offered to treat him to a birthday breakfast and he’ll be home later.

It’s strange waking up in someone else’s room. Nate doesn’t usually spend the night with the guys he goes home with, so he takes his time looking around Brad’s bedroom. It’s fairly Spartan, and it doesn’t tell him much of anything about Brad. At least not in the way the myriad colors of ink on Brad’s back do. He shifts down and lays across the back of Brad’s thighs, his body perpendicular to Brad’s as he rests his head on Brad’s ass and traces the lines of ink. He knows the moment Brad wakes up, but he doesn’t stop his movements.

“Comfy?” Brad turns his head so he can look back over his shoulder at Nate. He yawns and Nate sees perfect white teeth.

“Yeah.” Nate pokes Brad in the ass. “Though, you know, some percentage of body fat wouldn’t kill you, and it’d make you a better pillow.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Brad keeps watching him, his eyes half-closed and darkened by the long sweep of his lashes. “So, what do you want for your birthday?”

“I thought you gave that to me last night.”

“No.” Brad grins. “That was what _I_ wanted for your birthday.”

“Ah.” Nate laughs and trails his fingers lower, skimming the crack of Brad’s ass. “Can I have _anything_ I want?”

“Mmm.” Brad closes his eyes all the way as Nate’s fingers keep sliding down. Nate braces himself on one elbow and Brad spreads his legs wider. Nate traces the stretch of sensitive skin that leads down to the weight of Brad’s balls. Brad’s voice isn’t quite stable when he speaks. “Yeah.”

Nate smiles and grabs the bottle of lube he’s had ready. He sits up and watches the clear liquid as it traces the curve of Brad’s ass, sliding invisible into the crack. His fingers follow and Brad gasps, spreading his legs even more. “Was I worth the wait?” Nate asks quietly, working his fingers slowly past Brad’s tight ring of muscle.

“S-so far so good,” Brad says, his voice catching on the words. “But don’t tell me t-that’s all you’ve got.”

Nate slips his finger inside Brad, burying it up to the second knuckle. Brad clenches around him and Nate nuzzles the solid flesh of Brad’s ass. “Nope,” he says, a sharp, quick nip at Brad’s skin. “Like you said last night, we’re just getting started.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
